TEAMING NOMINATED FOR THE PRESTIGIOUS SPANISH PRIZE PRÍNCIPE DE ASTURIAS: El Teaming propuesto para el Premio Príncipe de Asturias
Teaming: Mónica’s Dream (How Millions of Microdonations Are Changing Thousands of Lives. The story of Jil Van Eyle. Mercedes Salvador Acevedo y Jil Van Eyle.
En el verano de 2012 algo muy asombroso y especial ocurrió para Escritorial: publicamos nuestro 4to libro. Desde el comienzo de este proyecto, en diciembre de 2010, Escritorial no sólo ha publicado cuatro libros sino que realmente ha erigido este puente virtual entre escritores de ambos lados del océano. Nueva York y Barcelona se han conectado a través de lecturas en librerías, participación en eventos culturales y literarias en ambas ciudades y el establecimiento de fuertes lazos entre escritores, editores y profesores de literatura. Mundo Palabras, la revista Traslapuente, la revista Terral– estas son algunas de las entidades e iniciativas literarias que nos vinculan actualmente.
Cuando comenzamos a trabajar en el libro que presentaría la iniciativa de Jil Van Eyle, Teaming, a un público americano por primera vez, la tarea no nos pareció imposible. En menos de dos meses, nuestro equipo en Nueva York se dedicó a trabajar con Jil Van Eyle en Barcelona, a investigar, redactar en castellano y traducir al inglés un libro de relataría la historia verídica de un hombre que abandonó su vida de ejecutivo y empresario en Europa para dedicarse a recaudar fondos para causas sociales. A fines de septiembre, el libro estaba listo y en camino de la imprenta en Massachusetts a la ciudad de San Francisco donde comenzaría su gira. En diciembre, el lanzamiento del libro se llevó a cabo en la librería Bernat +, en Barcelona… y en la primavera de 2013, Jil Van Eyle recibió la nominación para el Premio Príncipe de Asturias por su trabajo filantrópico.
Es con gran orgullo y placer que les presentamos la primera parte del capítulo inicial de Teaming: Mónica’s Dream (How Millions of Microdonations Are Changing Thousands of Lives. The story of Jil Van Eyle. También queremos compartir algunas fotografías del lanzamiento del libro en Barcelona, junto con algunas notas personales.
Carta de apoyo de Mercedes Salvador al comité Premio Príncipe de Asturias:
La editorial Escritorial, con sede en Nueva York publica libros de poesía y narrativa de escritores multilingües que cruzan un imaginario puente entre Nueva York y Barcelona.
El equipo editorial al completo nos quedamos profundamente convencidos de la importancia del mensaje que propone el Teaming y pudimos comprobar en las presentaciones del libro la fuerza que da a la gente la idea de contribuir a una causa con una cantidad tan simbólica. Es una idea simple y brillante. No siempre tenemos la oportunidad de hacer algo importante en el mundo. Muchos de nosotros estamos comprometidos con la construcción de un mundo mejor, pero es muy fácil desanimarse cuando el dolor de la guerra, del hambre, de la violencia, los problemas que nosotros mismos creamos, se suman o se añaden a los eventos que no podemos cambiar como los desastres naturales. Todos queremos contribuir de una forma concreta porque sabemos que es nuestro deber como seres humanos. El TEAMING nos devuelve la fuerza y nos da los medios para hacerlo.
Escritorial y yo personalmente damos apoyo incondicional a la candidatura de TEAMING para el Príncipe de Asturias en la modalidad de Cooperación Internacional y Concordia desde la plataforma editorial Escritorial. org. Escritorial es una editorial con sede en Nueva York, de la que soy socia, fundadora que publicó el pasado mes de septiembre del 2012, el libro Teaming: Mónica’s Dream (How Millions of Microdonations Are Changing Thousands of Lives.The story of Jil Van Eyle.
When Mónica Was Born
From the book :Teaming: Mónica’s Dream (How Millions of Microdonations Are Changing Thousands of Lives.
The story of Jil Van Eyle.
Written by: Mercedes Salvador and Alberto Alegre and Mariana Romo-Carmona.
Published by: Ediciones Escritorial, 2012
The Mallorca sunlight streamed in every morning, intense at this time of year. Jil put on his white Hugo Boss suit with a matching shirt and tie, and proceeded to brew a strong, dark coffee. It was August, 1998, and his wife, Victoria, was seven months pregnant.
He opened the window of his large colonial apartment in the city center of Palma de Mallorca, Spain, and let the sea breezes flood the room. Living on a Mediterranean island had the charm of the sea being ever present in daily life, and that day was an important one in their lives. After the echo-sonogram, he and Victoria would know whether they would have a son or a daughter.
Together, Jil and Victoria took the elevator down, walked to their car, got in their FIAT coupé Turbo, and settled themselves in the comfortable gray leather seats. Jil was still young, in his early thirties, and had achieved great professional success. Having a child was, more than anything, the realization of all his dreams.
Looking in the rear-view mirror Jil Van Eyle could mentally trace the long way he had come to be where he was, successful, in control of his life. For him, it hadn’t been enough to be Marketing Director of Eurotunnel at 25. By the time he was 26, he had launched his own business in a new company: a fleet of brand new commuter buses that provided rapid transit between several European cities, non-stop, with attendants and a new marketing system. It was a sort of luxury Greyhound line. In less than three months, his company had surpassed all the projected bus ticket sales and, not knowing quite how it had happened, he had become a media personality, admired by everyone.
Jil kept his eyes on the road, but with a quick glance at his wife seated next to him, the awareness of this moment washed over him. Despite all his success, having a child was a last attempt at saving his marriage, as if that child could bring back the happiness they had at the beginning.
They crossed the city in a few minutes. At the doctor’s office, a young nurse, slightly bored, asked Vicky to get up on the examining table. Soon, the comforting figure of the obstetrician appeared, quiet, strong, and broad-shouldered, exuding confidence in his demeanor. He greeted them and began the procedure of spreading the cool gel over Vicky’s belly, waiting for the screen to show the image of their child moving inside her.
Almost immediately, Jil noticed the doctor’s hand moving quickly, in jerky motions, no longer looking at them like before. His pupils seemed trained on the screen, focusing again and again on something he did not seem able to find. What was supposed to be a routine visit was quickly becoming unsettling. Jil felt a sudden stab in the stomach trying to fathom the possibility that there may be a problem, but he quickly dismissed the idea from his mind.
Finally, attempting to regain his composure, the doctor turned his face towards them.
“I believe you have a girl…” he said, and then paused as if to take in some air. Jil suddenly understood what it’s like to feel silence stretching for a few seconds into what seemed like hours.
He became aware of a painting on the wall, of the color, of the ceiling, the room closing in. “And we have to run some tests.”
“But, what is it? Is something wrong?” Jil asked the questions, hoping to be told that it was nothing important.
“We don’t know for sure.”
“What’s happening?” Victoria asked, her voice shrinking to a whisper. Jil saw beads of perspiration on his wife’s forehead. Both of them craned their necks forward, trying to make sense of the image, dazed.
The doctor didn’t want to make a mistake, Jil supposed, or to say the wrong thing.
“If I’m correct,” the doctor began, and then he stopped. “I believe the baby has hydrocephalus- a serious condition. Babies born with this type of brain damage don’t normally live for more than two days.”
Now, the silence that arrived in the wake of his words was complete. Time did not stretch or run faster, it simply stopped.
“Hydrocephalus is a very rare illness,” the obstetrician added, “one that has an extremely low incidence.” With his face a somber mask, the doctor sent them to the Hospital Son Dureta, the most important medical center in Palma de Mallorca, to run further tests.
Suddenly the waiting had come to an end. There were no more memories of where they were, what things looked like or what color they were. Jil realized that the nurses at the office averted their gaze so they would not have to look at him in the eyes. Jil and his wife walked out into the street, distraught, not saying a word. Jil could not think about Victoria, about how she felt after getting the news, he could only ask himself over and over, Why? Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this? What have I done wrong? Haven’t I suffered enough?
They returned home in complete silence. Neither of them wanted to allow the words they had just heard to become a reality. Outside, the city was alive, unaware of their pain, unconcerned, crowded with the German and British tourists that had arrived to enjoy the brilliant sun and the sea.